


Blue Hair

by LightningTiger77



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningTiger77/pseuds/LightningTiger77
Summary: Gilbert often acts on impulse, dyeing his hair blue being no exception.Yet when his best friend and their shared girlfriend show up, he finds the dye job may not have been as awesome as he initially thought...
Relationships: Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Kudos: 10





	Blue Hair

“Amigo, I think that’s what you call a bad dye job.”

“You look like un idiota.” 

“Thanks, you two. It’s great to know you both care. That makes it all the harder to tell you, I don’t take constructive criticism. You can feel free to place something in my suggestion box though,” Gilbert said, shaking a trash bin at them. 

Antonio rolled his eyes. “Dios mio, did you do that all to yourself? You didn’t even get the blue everywhere.” 

“Personally, I think that adds volume.”

“Personally, I think you’re un idiota,” Chiara said for the second time that day, but certainly the thousandth time since he’d known her. She even wore a bratty little smirk as though she’d said something clever. 

Gilbert shot them both a deadpan expression. 

Dyeing his hair on a whim, like most things, was a good idea at the time, but in retrospect, he needed to remember that every person he knew was a critic. Antonio and Chiara were the first people to see him with blue hair. If their reactions were anything to go by, he hoped the color would wash out as soon as possible. 

Then again, fuck their opinions. 

The trash bin rattled again. “Thank you so much,” he said, placing the thing back down next to his desk. “Now, is there a reason for your unwanted visit other than to offer unwanted criticism?” 

“Don’t be like that, amigo.” Antonio held up a bag, the aroma of which made Gilbert perk up. “Remember? We agreed we’d have lunch together every week.” 

Chiara crossed her arms, pouting. “You didn’t forget, did you?” 

Ah right. Along with the day of the week he reserved for seeing Chiara exclusively, there was also the weekly lunch date they agreed on after Gilbert made it a habit to interrupt the ones that didn’t involve him. True, Gilbert did it because he missed the bratty little Italian, but he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the look on his friend’s face when he came back to the sight of Chiara in his lap. 

“What is with that look?” Antonio eyed him. 

“Oh, nothing.” 

Finding his mood turning for the better, Gilbert motioned his guests to take a seat on the couch. At the very least, this meant that he didn’t need to order lunch today. Tacos and salsa, home-cooked by Antonio himself. The guy was a brilliant good, he had to give him that. One time he’d suggested they just eat tacos from Germany, only for the Spaniard to look at him like he’d said they should slaughter a goat. 

Chiara grumbled about the food being awful for her diet, but that didn’t stop her from eating them in quick succession. The entire time, she kept glancing at Gilbert, as if he wouldn’t notice. Was his new hair really that bad? 

That morning, he’d changed his profile picture to reflect his current hairstyle without a second thought. Now he wondered what awaited him in terms of reactions and comments. 

#

It was worse than he thought. Roast after roast, his friends laid into him over the poor job he’d done to his hair. Looking at himself in his phone’s camera now, the missed patches of white were all the more obvious to him now. He met the comments with his usual quips and jokes. After all, the other nations were known for making fun of each other whenever possible. 

No, it was the reactions from his lovers that really got to him. They were a range of the snide comments, similar to what his friends said, to concerned and outright calling what he did terrible. The worst reactions were probably the ones that involved no reaction at all. 

Antonio and Chiara left several hours ago, leaving Gilbert to his work and to deal with the fallout of his hair. 

Now that he sat alone at his desk, staring at the computer screen, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself as smoke curled around him. Work was done, but going home didn’t feel like a viable option. The blonde head of his sister popped in to check on him earlier, but he brushed her off with a promise that he was fine. 

His thought was she must have come back to scold him further for the hair choice when he heard the door open. He stood, shoulders hunched. “West, I’m serious, I’d rather be alone right--” A click quickly followed the door closing, shifting his attention to the entrance to his office. 

Chiara’s slender form stood there, looking at him through her eyelashes. “You know smoking is bad for you, bastard.” 

Really? That’s what she’d come back to say? Gilbert pressed the end of the cigarette to his lips and breathed in, just to spite her. She frowned, walking over immediately to try snatching the cigarette from his grasp.

“Gimmie!”

“No! Just because Antonio got you to quit doesn’t mean I have to as well!” 

The idea of Chiara being extra cranky sounded like an oxymoron, but ever since the two of them started dating, Antonio was keen on getting his novia to get rid of her stress in what he saw as more healthy ways. The result of this meant that Gilbert wasn’t allowed to smoke around her. Some days, he really wished he were some kind of telepath to see these kinds of things coming.

At this didn’t point, he didn’t know if she was trying to steal it from him in order to smoke it herself or if she could destroy it. Chiara stood much shorter than him, but she made up for that with a ferocity he normally found cute but right then found tiring after all the comments he’d read. Finally having had enough, Gilbert held the cigarette between his teeth as he picked her up and set her on the flat surface of his desk. Her continued squirming caused several utensils and papers to fall to the ground.

“Liebe, relax!” 

Chiara huffed, hand still grasping his shirt as she shot daggers at him. Her face was flushed, though he wasn’t sure if that due to the physical exertion or how close they were. Either way, his lip curled in amusement as he then offered the stick to her. 

“You want some?” Gilbert asked. 

Her lips made a thin line as she shook her head. 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. This was how their interactions usually went. The two of them acting like total nutcases one moment, only for her to pull him closer when she otherwise would try smacking him.

She refused to meet his eye this time as she cast her gaze downwards. “I… No, I shouldn’t.” She bit her lower lip. “What’s the big idea, huh? You said you wouldn’t smoke around me. Boss was clear about no cigarettes.” 

“I didn’t know you’d be barging in here after you left,” Gilbert said. And what the hell was with her locking the door? He paused. “...No cigarettes at all?”

She shook her head again. 

“Alright.” Gilbert took a long drag. Chiara’s green orbs went wide, but just as her mouth opened to no doubt lecture him, he caught her by the back of her neck and pressed his lips to hers. Her fingers curled into the fabric covering his backside as she took in the smoke with a breathy moan, pressing her thighs against his waist. 

They parted with a grey cloud of smoke arising between them. Chiara blinked slowly, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace. “That’s not… fair… bastard.” 

“I never claimed to be fair.” He offered the end to her. Hesitation still swam in her features, but she soon complied, breathing in the awful nicotine. Then she pulled him into another kiss as if to share the guilt. The exchange was suffocating, hot in a completely different way than usual. Little puffs escaped at each gasp of breath, Gilbert soon going back for another intake, which Chiara responded to eagerly, head tilting into him as though he were her sole source of breath. 

By the end, all they had was a stub left. Her lipstick was smeared, but that happened so often Gilbert was beginning to think the color looked just as good on him as it did her. 

Chiara sat up as he rose, hiding her face in his neck. “Please don’t tell…” 

Gilbert cradled her close. “I won’t, I promise.” His words were sincere, but they always had an edge of teasing, which made it hard for people to take him seriously. 

The tension in her shoulders slowly eased as she leaned back, combing her fingers through his blue hair. “You should let me dye your hair next time.” 

“It looks that bad, huh?” 

“No.” 

What? “But earlier, you said--”

“I said you look like un idiota. But you are one so naturally, if the shoe fits…” She let the strands fall from her fingers before twirling some more playfully. To his raised eyebrow, she smiled. “This I like though. If I do it though, it will look a million times better.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Mhm. I will take no constructive criticism though so take it over leave it,” Chiara said coyly. 

Gilbert suddenly pulled her to stand. Disappointment washed over her features as Chiara expected to be told to leave, only for the blue-haired Prussian to turn her around and shoved her back down against his desk. Her green orbs were wide as she looked back at him, his body hovering over her. “Since when do you tell me what to do?” Gilbert purred into her ear. 

Chiara shuddered visibly, gone completely mute. The only sound that followed was a rustling of fabric as she carefully pulled her skirt up then pressed her plump rear against his crotch. He responded in kind, catching the way her curl twitched as she was presented with the fruit of their earlier exchange. 

There was hardly anyone left in the office, but that didn’t stop Chiara from covering her mouth with both hands while the desk creaked beneath them. Her hot slick walls took him in to the best of their ability, Gilbert offering no mercy on his part as their skin slapped together at each thrust. He grabbed a bunch of her hair and shoved her against the flat surface, drool coming off the side of her mouth as she begged and pleaded in earnest. Even as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, she continued to push back against him, up until the final strands of resistance snapped, two waves crashing to meet each other, her drenching him at the same time he spilled his seed in her. 

Gilbert panted softly, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his desk and a lighter from one of his desk drawers. Chiara, meanwhile, lifted herself up onto her elbows, reaching back to grab one for herself. He gave her one and even lit it for her. She let out a content hum as she smoked, only for it to morph into a yelp when he put his own out on her rear. 

“Sorry,” he cooed. 

“Sorry!? You bastard, I’ll rip your-- Oh!” Back pressed to his chest, Gilbert kissed her and pulled himself out, momentarily catching her off guard as she suddenly found herself up against a wall with her legs curled around his waist. Any sense left in her was soon knocked out as he buried himself to the hilt inside her. 

On instinct, she clawed at his back, prompting a growl from the other, which had her smirk in satisfaction, only to then have her wrist pinned to the wall. She tried to keep up in any way she could, but he overwhelmed her, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it for maximum effect. Neither of them wanted it to end, but he knew she couldn’t hold on much longer. So he finished her off, letting his little brat cling to him, murmuring all manner of obscene things she would never say normally. 

They stayed like that for even longer compared to before, Gilbert being sure to hold her up as he peered up at her with the same wicked smirk. She pouted once she got enough of her sense back to see what he was doing and lightly punched his shoulder. 

“You jerk, what if someone heard me?”

“They didn’t, don’t worry.” Honestly, he didn’t know or care at this point, feeling like he was on cloud nine right then. He pecked her lips, making her relax some. “Hmm. Maybe you should dye your hair too. Maybe blonde?” 

“Fat chance of that, bastard. If you don’t like my natural hair color, you can fuck right off!”

“All I’m saying is, I think you could pull it off.”

Her cheeks turned scarlet. “...Really?”

“Really.”

“Guess you’ll have to settle for dream me dressing up for you then. I already put in enough effort as it is and you always mess it up.”

“What a shame. And yet you always lock the door behind you as if expecting it.” 

“Shut up and kiss me already, you bastard.”


End file.
